


Rehearsed Words (A Valentine's Day one-shot)

by Futabae69



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boarding School, High School, M/M, Teen Romance, That AU where everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmates, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futabae69/pseuds/Futabae69
Summary: "I’m not much for sightseeing, though, even if the town is rather quaint. It’s not like I have much money to shop for fine chocolates and I’m not old enough to grab an artisanal beer. At the start of the year, I was honestly considering skipping this visit. If it weren’t for one single thing that swayed me in favor of going, that is..."
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Rehearsed Words (A Valentine's Day one-shot)

Blue Ridge High is home of countless rumors and secret wonders that are just waiting to be discovered. Or so the students would want to think. Trapped inside the magnificent yet intimidating structure, they use their limited time to find ways to amuse themselves, often delving into the more narcissistic and detrimental pursuits. As such, whenever an opportunity to break free from the confines of this concrete temple arises, all of them push and shove to be the first to breath in the clear air of the true outside world.

“Mr Belmont, either you hand over that permission slip or you will spend the rest of the day writing a 5000 word report on what’s inside your school bag.” comes the sound of my chaperone for the day and I look up from the paper, handing it over. I have already read that name far too many times by now. It’s hard to believe February has arrived once again and we’re setting foot on the stone tiled streets of Downtown Ithaca for our little yearly excursion. 

I’m not much for sightseeing, though, even if the town is rather quaint. It’s not like I have much money to shop for fine chocolates and I’m not old enough to grab an artisanal beer. At the start of the year, I was honestly considering skipping this visit. If it weren’t for one single thing that swayed me in favor of going, that is...

“Look, Dim! The houses are all… Wooden and pointy. Reminds me of Canada a little bit.” smiles the cheerful Sapphire, exhaling a cloud of steam with each word. Seems the cold does not bother him at all, even if he’s clad in scarf, gloves and hat for warmth. Perhaps he’s part lizard and that’s why his lead blue eyes bug out slightly when he’s looking at something interesting.

“Indeed they are, my friend.” I reply, stifling a chuckle at the childishness of his expression. Simple words for a simple boy like him. And yet it’s that simplicity that draws me closer to him and prompted me to come along on this trip. The third vertex of the trifecta that urged me to attend: Person, Location and Date. All key ingredients for the fulfillment of one of the ‘magic wonders’ of Blue Ridge High’s extensive lore catalogue. “Care to go on a tour with me?” I suggest, although I already know the answer he will inevitably give me.

“I’d get lost if I didn’t...” he laughs, small teeth showing underneath his lips. Convincing him to go anywhere is actually the easy part. He seems so eager to please everybody who comes into contact with him that it’s hard to think he would refuse. After going over the safety lecture with the teachers, we’re allowed to wander freely through the city guided by printed maps. Not that anybody could get lost as long as they had a phone. 

According to the rumors, if a man and a woman share some passion fruit tea from the same teapot at Madame Sofronie’s shop, their love is destined to last even after graduation. Personally, I believe it’s a crock of shit to sell undrinkable tea. Moreover, Jano is definitely not a woman and neither am I. Despite all this, the rumor describes it as the perfect place for a heartfelt confession; ergo, the best location to deliver the letter I’ve carefully tucked under my jacket. Besides, the little sapphire is always talking about sweet things and holds some pretty stereotypically romantic aspirations, so I believe he will get a kick out of it regardless.

We enter the shop and it’s worse than I ever could imagine. It’s 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗱. Filled to the brim with couples. So much so that we can barely get through to an empty table, awkwardly rubbing our asses and crotches against the other seats like we’re trying to get up to the bathroom on an airplane. Being on a chair doesn’t help much either because the decorations are tacky as all hell: pink ribbons and lace over everything: the windows, the candles, the chandeliers. 

“Is this the kind of place you like to visit for tea?” Jano asks, but I can barely see him. There’s a fake flower bouquet drenched in cheap floral perfume right in between us that majorly obscures our view of each other. The stench makes me gag when I open my mouth to answer and I start coughing. “I’ll drink whatever you order, I wanna try being sophisticated too.” he giggles. I can’t tell if he’s disappointed or genuinely curious.

Between coughs I manage to flag down a waitress and ask for a pot of passion fruit tea. We’re already trapped so I might as well make conversation to set the mood this disaster of a shop did such a poor job of doing for me. “I actually brought you here because..” I began before a giant hand taps me on the shoulder to make me turn around. My enthusiasm drops as soon as I see those familiar green eyes staring back at me. “Why are you here of all places…?”

“I don’t know, why are 𝑦𝑜𝑢 here?” Dominic answers in his usual puerile tone. “My date ran suddenly into the ladies room. At least I hope she managed to get there in time. You win some, you lose some.” he sighed and I raise an eyebrow. “And before you say it: how dare you. I only poison close friends and family.” he defends himself, knowing exactly what I was going to say. I’m not sure if I trust those words of his though. “Anyway I didn’t think you believed in the rumors...” he teases, but I’m not budging an inch to his juvenile assumptions. 

“I do not. I’m here for something entirely unrelated.” I stand my ground, because my statement is 100% true. “Jano is just very enthusiastic about drinking fancy tea...” I protest, giving reasons that are completely valid and reasonable.

“Well, magic tea or not, you should stay on your guard because on that other side, Sebastien is talking to your boyfriend.” he retorts and the words come out my mouth on their own.

“He’s not my… I mean, what?” I answer, turning back to my table and picking up the obnoxious bouquet to get a clear view and find Jano getting his brains filled up with nonsense from that skirt-chasing redhead. I happen to hear words like ‘ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʳʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵘᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘ’ and ‘ˢᵉʳᶦᵒᵘˢˡʸ, ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ’ so I clear my throat loudly and hey both turn back to me. “We should be heading out, there’s still so much to see!”

Jano agrees wholeheartedly and we both ditch those two idiots, one of which yells ‘Good luck’ on our way out. I'm not sure which one but both meanings of the phrase sound like bad new to me regardless.

On the side of the road, a small student is looking at the window displays with bright eyes. His body is plump with excessive winter wear, aside from his usual scarf. It’s that inescrutable sunflower, Luo. I was hoping I didn’t run into him today since he’s the biggest obstacle to overcome because as soon as Jano sees him in any context, he dashes right into action to save him from all sorts of imaginary problems. This time he really seems taken in by the sweets of the candy shop, like the rest of his classmates that are already swarming inside, devouring chocolates and lollipops.

“Luo, why aren’t you in there? Can’t decide which one to get?” he predictably smiles, looking for conversation. 

“I’m not allowed to eat sweets...” Luo mumbles, going right back to his window shopping. If his mouth wasn’t covered by the scarf, his drool would probably form a pool at his feet. As expected, Jano is going to try and help the guy instead of ignoring him for his own benefit. He should learn to let the Second Year find his own freedom instead of reinforcing his sheltered behavior.

“You’re on a school trip! Surely just one won’t hurt you. Especially since you brush your teeth so often!” he encourages, but the long haired youth seems more put off by his friendly attitude than elated and takes a step back from the window, contemplating his retreat.

The bell call rings as a man with carefully slicked back hair exits the building, carrying a rectangle shaped box in his hands. It’s obvious he has been listening to the whole ordeal because he clears his throat and then puts on his cheapest Shakespearean acting display while carefully opening the container, showing a row of perfectly arranged confectionary. 

“Oh, no! Whatever shall I do? I’ve bought all of these macaroons but I won’t be able to finish them all myself. Would you three please take one each to ease my burden?” he winks, like he’s in a sappy romance show. Both Luo and Jano flutter to his side and accept the pastries, thanking him and praising him while I shake my head when I’m offered one myself. I start walking, knowing the sapphire will follow, even if it takes him some time because he’s too busy admiring that cheesy librarian.

“Mr Pravdan is so cool...” Jano exclaims with his mouth wide open and his blue eyes filled with joy before chomping on his treat. I’ve had macaroons before and they’re not anything special so I don’t get why he’s so happy to have one. This freckled boy is strange indeed, getting excited over being offered candy by a middle aged man. 

“There’s a music shop nearby, we can try the guitars if you want.” I say, changing the subject. He’d recently expressed wanting to learn another instrument. I believe he’s a remarkable pianist but who am I to clip his artistically curious wings? I’m not very interested in browsing instruments I could never afford but I’m sure that if he ever found his passion was to be a double bassist, the price of the instrument in question would never deter him from working towards that goal.

Inside, the sapphire becomes an entirely different person. He gets lost in the sea of shapes and shimmers. He doesn’t touch anything or speak but the sheen of his eyes says everything. His usual gaze is so melancholic and distant, even when saying kind words or looking directly at you. There’s a sense of detachment from the world surrounding him that’s hard to ignore, no matter what his lips might say. It’s pretty rare to see him like this, entranced and involved at the same time, feeling like he’s truly part of the moment. In a way, I can’t help but think it’s another sort of distance.

“This brand is the best. It really projects the sound clearly.” the voice of a girl with a head full of curls that make her resemble a freshly-trimmed French poodle distracts me from what I was doing. She’s rushing back and forth, grabbing different types of microphone for her friend to look at. A girl who clearly would rather eat a live spider than be here at this precise moment in time.

“I don’t know why you keep shoving those ugly things in my face. I only play the recorder...” she insists with a scowl of disgust. Maybe the mics are not pink enough for her tastes but I’ve never claimed to know what Hannah is thinking about at any given time. “If I played the guitar or the piano, my fingers would get all hard and calloused. Besides, it’s such a hassle.”

“It’s so fun, though! When you’re finally able to make the sounds you envision in your head a reality, it makes all the hard work worth it!” Belle purrs, grabbing her by the hands and shaking them up and down like some sort of deranged Walmart greeter. “Isn’t that right, Jano? I’m sure you enjoy making music for yourself, don’t you?” she asks, snapping the awestruck boy back to reality.

“Yeah, totally...” he mumbles, trying to make it seem like he had been paying attention. His gaze wanders back to the guitars on the wall as he tries to find the correct words. “It’s nice to play for someone else, though. I kinda want to make music so somebody else listens to it.” he laughs nervously, as if trying to apologize for his statement. Interesting. So it’s not a vague ‘love for the art’ that moves his fingers across the white ivory keys but rather the desire to be heard.

“Who is it that you want to listen to your music?” the long skirted French girl asks, tilting her head. Jano is taken by surprise by the question, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water as he struggles to respond coherently. This is quickly becoming uncomfortable so I save him from having to answer. This place is not suitable for my purposes either anyway.

“Sorry, but we must be going.” I say, placing an arm around Jano’s neck and giving a non-compromising salute to the strange but amicable young woman. I, of course, give the boy some space after crossing the door once more.

“Where to?” my companion asks, just as expected, and I can’t contain the width of my smile when he does.

“The Chateau of Shrieks. It’s said that decades ago, a student of Blue Ridge went inside and never came back out. You can still hear the screaming to this day.” I explain, gesturing dramatically at the building in the distance. A small, Gothic-styled castle-like construction with a single tower on the right side. If going to faintly romantic shops wasn’t a good choice, I’d at least settle for going to a place with no people so I can finally get this over with.

“Is it dark and scary?” Jano chuckles with some kind of giddiness in his voice. I never took him for a risk-taking type. However, he’s never been afraid of the dark now that I think about it. Perhaps this location will do nicely. Something unorthodox and unique! 

He’s the first one to go through the busted gates and disappear. Does he have night vision or something? He didn’t even put his hand in front of himself like I do as to prevent running into a solid stone wall, using my palms to navigate through it. He speaks in quiet whispers, as if lulling a child to sleep. ”Yep, it’s pretty dark, but I don’t hear any screaming.” he comments and I dissuade him from giving up but urging him to go into the tower. I’m thinking it’d be resembling of those games about knights and kings he plays, and make him feel like some kind of noble being swept of his feet by a trusted knight.

Jano walks in front of the beam of light coming from the lancet window and I stop in my tracks. Sometimes, my recent attainment of colored vision surprises me, but that sense of wonder is made even more prominent whenever I open my eyes after being engulfed by complete and total darkness. His figure becomes a beacon of hues and shades, too numerous to count: from his stripped olive and turquoise gloves, to his maroon scarf, to his ever glowing sapphire eyes. My right hand makes and attempt to reach out to grasp the enigma of this rainbow but a piercing wail makes us both jump and turn around, before being mocked by uproarious laughter.

That snake-eyed silver fox comes into view, wiping away his tears of amusement before bringing one of his hands brutishly against Jano’s upper back. “You guys should have seen your faces!” he adds. “You looked like pair of startled pigeons, flapping around.” he said, obviously exaggerating to further embarrass his classmates.

“You 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 know about pigeons, considering you share brain sizes with them.” I bite back. I’ve never been so tempted to shove someone out a window more in my life. He’s mildly bothered by my comment, accusing me of being bitter from being outed as a scaredy cat. I scoff at the notion and prepare myself to deliver some more tongue lashing his way.

“I’m sorry, I tried to stop him but I couldn’t see a thing!” Hope intervenes, emerging from the shadows with her hands on the wall, to prevent us from escalating things and apologizes in turn. She slaps the top of Angelo’s gunmetal head and forces him to spit out a half assed apology himself. There’s really no point because my chance was ruined anyway. Jano laughs awkwardly and someone who wasn't me suggests getting out before anyone gets hurt.

“Hey, Dim. Let’s just go to the pier and watch the sea. I’m kinda tired...” he sighs, visibly exhausted after running around all day with me. My feet are starting to bother me a little so I guide the way. It’s not a place to be alone by any means, surrounded by wandering tourists and boat rental shops. He, on the other hand, seems content to just sit down and hang his feet above the water. Would the ocean view be appropriate for what I am about to do?

“It’s nice nobody is paying attention to the date. They all deliver their cards in secret and keep having fun like always… Or maybe nobody gives out cards or chocolates anymore.” he mutters, taking me by surprise. Perhaps he has caught wind of my plans and is trying to give me a segue to intervene with my offering. However, the more he speaks about the topic, the more it becomes clear he’s talking about today’s date for more personal reasons.

“I used to get really sad around Valentines because nobody ever gave me anything.” he confesses, scratching his nose with a woolen hand. “But I rarely went to class and I didn’t want to talk to anybody so it’s only natural people would reject me.” he continues. I’m surprised he’s not making excuses but rather admitting it’s his own lack of social interaction which that causes his isolation.

“I always wanted to feel accepted but I kept pushing others away. When I first started doing it I felt like I was owed something. Some kind of acknowledgement…” This is definitely weird. He never opens up so bluntly to me. He’s usually reserved about his own story and his experiences and deflects the question when asked directly. It’s pretty awkward and I don’t know how to respond so I just sit here beside him and listen, trying not to get distracted by the darker tone on his mellifluous voice. 

“I try to think that even if nobody likes me, I’ll try to be content with having just myself. So I don’t have to rely on others. I don’t have to be my own biggest fan, or even do everything right. I just want to try, little by little, to hate myself less each day.”

I clear my throat nervously. I wasn’t expecting this kind of confession. And now I’m even more confused as to how to proceed. Would the letter I’ve been keeping close to my heart this whole time make him feel better or worse? Would it be the kind of acceptance he was hoping for and clear up years and years of loneliness? Or would it seem superficial and fuel his bad habit of latching onto anybody who gives him any positive interaction?

The truth is I feel a twinge of jealousy about the ease with which he communicated his feelings to me. No stops or sugar-coating. No request for pity or help. He is determined to be self-sufficient and said as much. Meanwhile, I’ve been hiding my cowardice all day under the guise of pretending to look for a good opportunity when in reality the words are all there, written on my lips and begging to get out. The only thing stopping me is the fear of rejection sewing my mouth shut so I can only smile sheepishly and nod along.

“Even so, I like being around you. You make me feel like I don’t have to do everything alone.” he smiles, like a child that has just realized the world is filled with wonderful things and he can become a bird of a butterfly if he so chooses. Those midnight azures are deeper than the void in the heart of their owner and deeper than the chasm that I feel between that and my own heart.

Stop. Stop saying such kind words when you don’t know the weight behind them. Stop making everything seem so easy. Stop making it obvious that there is no imaginary iron wall separating us. Stop making fun of me with those deep blue eyes. Your head is filled with air because you just don't care about anything and that makes you as brave as it makes you naive. It makes me want to scream. 

I just want you to 𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗧 𝗨𝗣.

Something cold brushes against my wrist and tugs at my gloved hand. I blink for a few moments, processing what’s happening. Jano’s bare and cold fingers are prodding into my glove, slowly gaining entrance into the woolen piece, until his palm is resting comfortably against my hand, each digit on top of my own. Confused, I look around and see his other hand, gripping the missing glove, resting on his thigh.

His eyes look into the distance but, for some reason, do not seem to be so far away from me now. Neither of us move or say anything and just quietly acknowledge that our hands fit together quite nicely, as if they were meant to hold each other all along. When the time comes to separate them, he was the first one to pull away and I don’t make any attempt to pull him back: the warmth from his touch lingers as if it’s still there.

He walks off first and I intend to follow. But before that, I take the letter that I’ve been trying to deliver and slowly rip it apart before casting it into the sea. The color blue has swallowed all my useless platitudes and left me only with the raw feelings. So I intend to reciprocate in full and only present the most sincere of emotions. I only have words and gestures but the ones I intended to use were not the ones that were true to my heart.

February 14th has come and gone without a grand confession and that’s okay. The date and location have proven not as important as the actual person. The rumors and gossip of Blue Ridge High have brought me closer to him so I wouldn’t say they are completely worthless. But I should have known such childish games wouldn’t be the key to success.

Hopefully, the next time we both gaze into the sea, we will look back at each other and unabashedly share our touch without restriction or concealment. 

I look forward to the day where I can hold your hand again. And every moment afterwards.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Harry Potter's awful date with Cho Chang and Hogsmeade outings in general. So I wanted to put some of my roleplay characters in a cute and sweet situation just for entertainment.
> 
> I have never been nor happen to know much about Ithaca.


End file.
